One Week Notice
by kazema
Summary: “Sorry to disappoint you but nothing happened last night. And besides, even if there was, you’ve got nothing to hide that I’ve never seen before, remember?” He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned on the headboard...DrH oneshot


Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K. Rowling.

A/N: Be warned: the only characters you'll encounter in here are Draco and Hermione; some possible ooc-ness. Post-war.

**One Week Notice**

**by kazema**

Something out of the ordinary, or rather unbelievable happened. Last night the room was dimly lit. It was illuminated by a soft light from the upcoming dusk and two bodies were entangled in the huge bed covered by dark green bed sheet. A blanket, with the same shade of green as the bed sheet, covered their nakedness. Two bodies that seem to fit each other, making the other complete. It was a sight to behold. His lean arm served as a pillow for her and the other arm was protectively wrapped around her petite waist. Her slender arms rested steadily on his chest that rose up and down as he breathed.

They had just shared a night of burning passion. No words were spoken except only when they called each other by their first names in between kisses. It was rather impossible to think that how two people who barely speak to each other would end up like this. Both were exhausted yet peaceful as they sleep. Both have the contented smile on their lips. He seemed to have caged her in his steel yet warm embrace, never wanting to let go. And she seemed comfortable to be held in his arms as though she belonged in there naturally.

The sun was about to peek from the horizon. Mild sunlight rays illuminated the room. Hermione slowly opened her eyes and was blinded by the light that passed through the window, where the thin white curtain hung elegantly. It swayed as the wind passed through the half-open window. She gazed at the sleeping man beside her. Her eyes were filled with the secret she swore to keep from then on. His smile was slightly visible from her hazy vision. She was in pure bliss as his breath fanned her face. The feeling of him beside her made everything clearer as crystal. But there was a nagging voice inside her head. She felt she betrayed herself for feeling happy with this man. It was all wrong but why does it feel right?

Vague sequence of events replayed in her mind as she lay motionless. She made no attempt to free herself from him yet. Thoughts of what happened last night came rushing back like still pictures, refusing to be stopped. Her cheeks flushed at the memory of how she made love with him, in his bed. A Gryffindor had just made love with a Slytherin. It would have made no difference if they were not the once involved. Malfoy and Granger did not blend well years before and years after the final battle.

The nagging voice had become louder. She had to leave no matter how much she enjoyed his embrace. _This is foolish and I must be mad._ Hermione glanced again at him, at his features, closed eyes, strong nose and lips she had kissed numerous times last night, the lips that had kissed her back with so much fervor. She did not know what possessed her to do such a thing. It made no sense at all.

What made no sense even more was the overwhelming feeling that had overcome her as she gazed at the man before her. She had the sudden need to see him always, to wake up and see him there beside her. How is that possible? She was confused. She had to leave so she could think about the strange feelings that has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, consuming her, confusing her.

It took a moment for her to free herself from his firm grip on her waist. She cautiously left the warm bed and put on a green robe that was laid on the armchair. She picked the clothes that were strewn on the floor. She was wearing these clothes last night and had no idea at all how it had been taken off so easily.

She remembered she had been running aimlessly in the rain last night. That's when Malfoy found her, dripping in wet clothes, looking miserable. She was crying and shivering from the coldness of the night. Who was she to pass on the offer of help?

He brought her to his house and he provided her some of his clothes, a t-shirt and sweatpants that had hung loose over her slim body. They drank some firewhiskey. They did not talk. He waited patiently for her to start the conversation.

She wasn't drunk when she finally spoke in a pleading voice that broke the deafening silence in his living room. She asked him to hold her because she wanted to be assured that she was not alone, that she wasn't numb from all the pain. Her parents both died a month ago in a car accident and she had never felt lonelier. Her friends have lives of their own and she was not going to burden them with her emotional problems.

It greatly surprised her when he did as she asked.

He held her.

It felt good to be held like that. He was the person from who she least expected to get such assurance. And he gave it without asking any questions.

The next thing she knew, they were lip locked. She can't remember who made the first move. He brought her to his room; that's when the clothes were taken off she supposed. And then, _it_happened: she gave him all of her, _body_ and _soul_…

Hermione felt her cheeks flushed at the memory. She went to his bathroom, and saw herself in the mirror, looking thoroughly kissed. She had kiss marks on her neck and shoulders.

_Why, he sure did know how to leave a mark. _

Her hair was more disheveled than ever. Her scalp still tingled from the memory of how he had run his fingers through her hair between kisses and calling out her name.

When she finished putting on her clothes that had dried during the night, she gave him one last lingering look filled with longing and confusion. She was torn between leaving and staying, pretending and accepting, lying to herself and accepting the truth.

She needed time to contemplate what happened between them when there were no _them_ in the first place. Without further torturing her mind, she left wearing the clothes she wore last night which he let her borrow. She'd return it when she felt she can face him again after everything that's happened. And her clothes, she put it in a paper bag she saw in his living room, all crinkled and almost dry. She left without another glance at him, closing the door behind her, wondering if it'll be the last time she'll see that room.

..o..o..o..

As an utterly emotional person, she had perceptions she'd rather keep to herself. She had hopes she'd rather not say out loud. She had dreams she'd rather forget when she wake up in the morning. The sunrise had always been the same except when the sky is dark, a sign that it would rain.

She hoped it would not rain today.

The rain, as always since that night, had reminded her of Draco Malfoy. It had rained three times that week and today, the sun was nowhere in sight and the clouds were dark.

At night, dreams of him had troubled her out of her already sleep-depraved state. It was the same dream. She saw him smiling in his sleep, looking incredibly _contended._ Why not? He just _shagged_ her, made her his. He'd been so gentle so loving; it was almost unbelievable and even magical at the same time. How can he make love to her like he loves her? Does he even know it was her? Or did he choose to pretend she was someone else just so he could use her? But he kept saying her name, her first name, which meant he was sane last night. How she loved the sound of her name coming from him.

Today, once again, she was reminded of the day ahead that there was nothing to look forward to. She would always wake up in the morning and had to be reminded mercilessly that she's _alone,_her parents are gone forever; that Ron was married to Parvati and Harry was to marry Ginny a week from now.

She understood why she can no longer count on her best friend's attention. But understanding doesn't have to mean that she has accepted it with open arms. Why can't she be an open-minded person when it comes to her friends, to their changed priorities? Why can't she just learn to be alone and live with it?

The upcoming wedding was the _talk_in the wizarding community. Why wouldn't it be? It was Harry Potter_getting married_.

After the unexplainable _incident_, she pretended for almost a week that nothing happened between them. He seemed to feel her lack of interest to talk about it. The clothes he lent her remained unreturned.

She was certainly not looking forward to interact with Malfoy in any way but she still had to work. He was a co-worker for Merlin's sake. She cannot avoid him forever. She had tried to avoid Malfoy in every way possible and she succeeded for a week right? Avoiding him like the plague proved to be an easy job. She had become an expert in that field. Her only safety net was they worked in different departments. Until they meet face-face, see eye-to-eye, she had to take advantage of the free time. What explanation will she give him if ever he asked?

_If ever._

She remembered how civil they've treated each other for the past years. But a week ago, from treating each other _civilly_, they've moved on to the highest level of _intimacy_. They did not pass the getting-to-know-each-other stage because either of them knew they can never be friends after all those years of animosity toward each other.

Only time can tell when they would learn to like each other.

Maybe she should tell him that she had only been lonely and depressed. But was that even a fair, logical and acceptable explanation? Would he accept such far-fetched reason?

Even Hermione didn't believe it.

She stepped out of her bed and went to her bathroom. It was still the same old familiar reflection she was used to seeing in the morning when she looked at herself in the mirror. But something in her eyes had changed. They were more secretive, more reserved, and the innocence was gone for obvious reasons. He took it; or rather she gave it to him _willingly_.

She wondered till when their _once_ in a blue moon 'affair' will stay a secret. She knew Malfoy had many conquests and her name must have been already included in his inexistent list of women he had shagged for the past years. Was she the 50th on the list or perhaps the 79th or 107th?

Her heart twisted at the thought that she had only been one of his conquests. Just as the pain occurred to her, she tried to dispel it and instead busied herself with preparing the dress she would wear for the Ministry's pre-wedding party for Harry and Ginny. She had to go out to buy a wedding gift. She went towards the window of her apartment and glanced at the darkening sky. It looked like she had to bring her umbrella. It's going to _rain,_ hard.

Her one week grace period was over. Later tonight, at the party, was what she feared most. She would no longer be able to pretend Draco Malfoy did not exist or that his presence did not affect her.

While she took a hot shower, her mind was filled with all the possible explanations for her _foolish_actions. Foolish they may be but she did not regret it.

..o..o..o..

Hermione can't hide her disappointment when she didn't see him. He must be avoiding her just as she had avoided him all week. Or he had no plans of even talking about _it_. If that's the way he wanted it, so be it. It's better that way.

Her friends have dates. She was the only one in the group who had no one by her side and it made the night even more depressing. However, she was not aware that a pair of eyes was looking at her, observing her every move.

She must have drunk a couple of firewhisky that it was, after some time, taking effect, making her lose control. She danced with every man who asked her. What she didn't know was that _someone_ had wanted to dance with her but was afraid she might say no. The_someone_could only sit in the dark corner, jealousy eating him and rage overcoming him whenever some man would ask Hermione to dance and she wouldn't even decline.

Dancing had exhausted her and made her feel dizzier and sicker to her stomach than ever. In a slightly swaying walk, she reached her table and took hold of her purse. Feeling light-headed, she went to the bathroom, swerving as she did so, bumping into some people she can't quite recognize. She hoped that she could just throw up the alcohol and maybe stay in the bathroom till the night was over.

No one's going to miss her anyway.

Whenever someone would talk to her, they would always ask her how she was. The question had something to do with her parents for sure, of their death and it was making her sick. She didn't want to be reminded that they're gone.

She went straight for one of the cubicles and threw up and her stomach felt empty afterwards. She felt weak as cold sweat had spread on her forehead. She washed her hands on the sink and felt unwell as she saw her reflection in the mirror. She splashed some cold water to wake her self up from her momentary drunkenness.

On her way out of the bathroom, she saw a man's figure on the end of the hallway. Then suddenly, the figure of the man slowly faded and her surroundings went black. The man was quick to rescue her from her fall and caught her just in time before her body hits the floor.

..o..o..o..

The last thing she could remember was she fainted on her way out of the bathroom. What was she doing then, laid on the softest bed she could ever imagine? The texture of the bed was all too familiar and the scent that hung over in the room quite naturally was addicting and familiar as well. It reminds her of…

Malfoy's bedroom!

Her eyes had instantly opened at the realization. She was welcomed by the sight of a breath-taking Malfoy watching over her. She felt her heart leap at the sight of him in the early morning, looking serene.

Uneasiness befall her as she felt herself bare under the dark green blanket, the same blanket that had covered them several days ago. It was as though cold water was poured over her head that she sat up abruptly, clutching the blanket against her body.

"What did you do to me!?" Hermione shrieked in a trembling voice. She tried to shield her bare skin form his sight. He was unfazed by the sharp glare she directed at him. He was sitting too close to her that she had to move away. His lower body was clad only in navy blue boxers decent enough for Hermione's taste. His chest was bare, inviting her to feel it, to be held against it. She had to concentrate on looking at him nowhere else but in the eyes. But his eyes had this mischief light in them as though he was making fun of her violent reaction, of her current state.

How dare he make fun of this humiliating situation! She had nothing on but her under garments. What do you supposed she would think? Did something happen between them, for the _second_time?

"Sorry to disappoint you but nothing happened last night. And besides, even if there was, you've got nothing to hide that I've never seen before, remember?" He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned on the headboard, challenging her to respond to that.

"Don't even speak about it! Forget _that_ ever happened. I'd rather we not talk about that." She hastily said while frantically looking around for her clothes. They were no were to be found in the very familiar carpeted floor. Where did he put it?

"Malfoy, where are my clothes? And why am I looking like this when nothing happened?" demanded Hermione in a firm tone as she gestured at her almost-naked body. She was still in his bed, unable to get up.

"You were unconscious when I saw you last night. How could you let yourself get so drunk?" He stipulated to know why but she wouldn't tell him that he was the reason she got herself so wasted.

"It's none of your concern what I do. Give me my clothes. You never should have brought me here," accusation filled her voice.

"I brought you here because we have to talk. You've been avoiding me. And I thought that one week was enough time for the both of us to think about _it_." He implied _both_, which could only mean it had unsettled him as much as it did to her.

Silence seem to stretch on forever. She had to get out of there. She had nothing to say. In short, she can't explain why _it_happened.

"Care to tell me how and why it happened? You can't deny that we made love and that's more than just sex." He was trying to sound nonchalant but she could sense the anticipation in the exterior of his calm facade. He stood from the bed and sat on the chair, eyes still focused on her. If she wanted to get this over with, she had to drop the bomb.

"That's not making love. Not even close. You see, it was lust, pure lust and nothing more. We used each other. It's that simple." She had to fight the sudden urge to cringe at her own words. It hurt her more than it could hurt him, or his blasted ego.

What does he want to hear? That she wanted _it_to happen, that she planned on seducing him or whatnot, give him other kinds of reasons that would please him. That she _love_ him so she gave him all of her? She had already given her body.

There was no way she was going to give him her heart.

"We made love, how could you be so sarcastic about it?" Draco willed himself to look calm, to look unaffected by her very presence and by her harsh words. She made it sound so insignificant, so inhuman, like he didn't feel anything at all but lust for her. She implied as though he was incapable of loving. What if she was wrong? Didn't she stop to think about that possibility?

"There's no need to refresh my memory Malfoy, I very well remember what happened that _night_." There was a bite in her voice when she called him Malfoy. The sound of it had washed over him like cold water. That unforgettable night, she had called him _Draco._ And today, they were back to hostility and cold treatment in the pretense of civil conduct they use on each other at the Ministry whenever their paths would cross.

Hermione was looking for her dress and she found it laundered and neatly hung on the vacant armchair a few feet away. She got up, wrapped the blanket on her body and snatched the dress and went straight to the bathroom. She put it on as fast as she could, her hands trembling and her heart thumping. She took deep breaths to clam her nerves. She needed to compose herself before going out to face him.

Draco was still sitting on the armchair, deep in thought. His eyes were glued on the bathroom door where she disappeared to earlier. "You don't just give yourself to someone you don't love or someone you hate, for no reason at all." He doesn't give up that easily, does he? Hermione had the need to just drop another bomb, something that would rattle him, that would be the _nuclear_ this time.

"I just _did_give myself to someone I don't love or someone I hate, for _no__reason_at all. However you want to put it, it's up to you. I'm out of here." And with that last statement, she went for the door and ran as fast as she could. She had not however seen that her words had hurt Malfoy and he did not try to hide it.

Hermione was holding back tears as she walked out of the house. She wouldn't cry just because of Malfoy. But her tears were on the brink of falling and she can't hold it back now.

..o..o..o..

The garden wedding went as planned. There were no delays. It was held in one of the most beautiful hotels in Diagon Alley. She almost wished the night would be over soon for she could not take the cheerful chatter of the people around her. She had drunk a number of glasses of red wine. Lately, she had been drinking too much for her own good.

Wine and firewhiskey flooded the tables during the post-wedding party. Hermione took a sip of her wine in haste, washing away the painful lump in her throat with another taste that's as sour as this night is turning out to be.

She stiffened however when she felt someone's eyes on her. When she looked to her right, there he was, staring right at her, through her. He raised his glass in a toast gesture.

How could he look so calm after their row the day before? _Damn._

She immediately glanced away and yet again drank from her glass of wine. She was surrounded by her friends, happy-looking friends. She laughed emptily at their banter. She may seem present in body but she was absent in mind because her thoughts were somewhere else. It had hovered over to the table where the Aurors were sitting, where Malfoy is sitting.

Her eyes wandered aimlessly to the dance floor in lack of anything else to do. She was by now all alone in the table. Suddenly, an extended hand was in front of her. She looked up to see Draco Malfoy. He had a solemn expression on his face, almost pleading for her to take his hand. She _wanted_to dance with him. She_ wanted_ him close to her. Again, she acted without thinking, by taking his hand. Maybe it was the effect of alcohol on her, taking away her logic and reasoning. They blend in with the couples, hands held together, and his grasp tight on her hand, as though he would not want to let her go.

Again, like the night they shared, no words were spoken. They were just holding each other…and the slow song had filled the silence between them. Hermione contented herself on leaning on to him, holding on to him and enjoying his affectionate embrace. How she missed it.

"Hermione," He called her name. Why did it sound so good? "Would you listen to what I want to say and not walk away like what you did twice before?"

She nodded and braced herself for what was to come. She didn't look up at him, instead she held him even closer. She wanted to remember that night forever, because it was one of the memories of him that she would cherish.

Draco knew that the least he could do was give her some time or space. He himself was confused as to what had happened. It's not everyday that past enemies sleep together. That's just what he and Hermione did the night he saw her on the street, looking lost and vulnerable.

But her blatant statement, implying she felt nothing for him and that what had happened was nothing but pure lust and not love, had rendered him speechless. He had been consumed by the thought to realize it too late that she had gone. It was too late to run after her. It was a blessing that there's a wedding to attend to. It was an opportunity to talk to her.

He was not able to tell her what that single night meant for him. He can't explain why and how it happened but since Hermione, he had never slept with other women like he used to. He had conquests, he admits that but with Hermione, it was different. She was the sort of woman who needed security, who needed an assurance.

For the man that Draco Malfoy was for the past years, he never promised anyone any commitment, nor gave anyone his affection. Hermione was the kind of woman who deserved a one-woman man. It's strange though, because that's what Draco had been trying to do, trying to be that man for her, abstaining from his usual affairs.

"I want you to tell me what you think of the story I'm about to tell you. Can you do that and be honest?"

"Alright," she whispered back, still not looking up.

"There was this two people, neither of them were friends with each other, yet they shared something that was intimate and unforgettable for the other. Both were confused and afraid to admit what it was. Then the woman left without even hearing out the man's explanation. What do you call a woman who had just made love with a man and then she just left without a word?"

"I think she's scared. She only did what she thought was right. I guess she was scared to talk about it or to hear what he has to say to her." They were still swaying to the rhythm of the music. She knew what the illustration was all about but she played along with it.

"She avoided him like the plague and so he thought he'd give her some time. Then it finally came, where he was supposed to tell her what he felt. But he felt she was not being honest. She left again and he was left behind for the second time. He was not able to tell her just how much that one night meant to him," he continued.

"I thought we talked about this." She finally looked at him. "If this is about how sorry you were, I can live with that. But you telling me that it meant so much to you is too much. Let's just move on and forget about it." She didn't mean what she said but said it anyway. She never liked false hopes, not from him. He was leading her on.

"I can't move on without telling you exactly what I should have told you before. I don't regret every moment of it except for the part where I let you leave so without difficulty that morning…and then when I let you leave again the second time. It was a mistake letting you walk away and I won't make that same mistake again tonight by letting you leave me without hearing me out first."

She knew she had to hear him out or else, he won't stop following her around.

"I love you Hermione Granger. I know I do. How can you explain the need I feel to always see you, to need to see you every night and every morning when I wake up?"

"Do you mean that?" Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears that were threatening to fall.

"I mean it," he held her cheek in his hand, his eyes filled with sincerity and affection. She wanted to believe him; she wanted to tell him she felt the same way.

"I'm scared Draco. What if we can't make it? What if we fail? What if we had to go our separate ways years from now? What will become of us? We're not even friends, doesn't that scare you?"

"As much as it scared me, we have to try. If we didn't, we wouldn't know."

"Do you want to know the reason why I want you to just forget about it and never mention it ever happened?"

"What's your reason," Draco was curious, he had to hear it.

"I want to preserve it in my memory. I want to remember it just the way it is without any explanation because it was the best thing that ever happened in my life. I don't want you to tell me _anything_ after that night which might ruin the memory…I want to remember it that way."

"I think it would be better to live in the moment than in the memory of it."

He made sense when he said that.

"What did you see in me Draco? Tell me, how could you love me at all?"

"I see a woman who believed in me. Even if you didn't say it, I just know that you believed that I've changed my ways."

"What about the other women in your life?"

"They're history. You're my present and future, Hermione Granger." He said it sincerely that she was left with no choice but to believe him.

When he lowered his face to hers, she allowed it to happen. They kissed and as it deepened, she knew deep down he meant it.

..o..o..o..

As an utterly emotional person, she had perceptions she'd rather keep to herself. She had hopes she'd rather not say out loud. She had dreams she'd rather forget when she wake up in the morning. But that's all about to change.

Today was an exception. The sun was nowhere to be found for the reason that it was raining hard outside. It was cold yet she felt warm.

_Everything was about to change now, isn't it? _

She had someone to share her perceptions, share her hopes and dreams, and dream with all day for the rest of her life, if they can make it.

She held her hand to take another look at the sparkling diamond ring on her wedding finger.

The sunrise had always been the same except when the sky was dark, a sign that it would rain. The rain, as always had reminded her of Draco Malfoy. Now, even when it wouldn't rain, the ring on her finger would always remind her of him, of how happy he made her.

"I love you Draco," she whispered to him, as she gently kissed his lips and cuddled close to him under the blankets. He smiled, the kind of smile she got used to seeing whenever she told him those words.

**THE END**

A/N: Thank you for reading.

_Edited 02-27-08_


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